


D&D Character Snapshots

by storiopath



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, bit of magic, they're just a couple of misfits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 18:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiopath/pseuds/storiopath
Summary: I've gotten progressively hooked on D&D this year, then Critical Role sent me over the edge. I made a character, and as I was reading about the races and classes, I had more ideas, and now I have four characters who all get mixed up together in wars and powers they don't fully understand.Meet Baran, a dragonborn soldier, and Charn, a tiefling bard seeking tales of glory (and a new life). Before everything goes horribly wrong, at least.





	D&D Character Snapshots

His fingers skipped along the curve of Baran’s arm across his chest, tracing the tessellating lines of scales and dancing down and up until they tangled with Baran’s own. The tent was peaceful after a day of marching. Night sounds filtered through the fabric, muffled hoots and vibrato cricket chirps, the crackling of campfires and the soft tread of a sentry’s footsteps. Charn’s heart beat slow and steady beneath Baran’s palm. The rise and fall of his chest filled Baran’s half-closed eyes. His playful fingers turned Baran’s hand over and pulled it gently into the air. As Charn unfurled their fingers, soft grey skin pressing flat against the dull bronze of Baran’s scales, he began to hum.

It was a deep sound, vibrating in his throat and tingling across the skin where Baran’s head rested in the crook of Charn’s neck. Baran closed his eyes and sank into the wordless tune, the slowly shifting tones lazily looping lower and higher, the warmth of Charn’s hand and the faint smell of lilac lingering somehow even after a 12-mile march through the foothills. Charn was a contradiction. Better with a blade than half the newest recruits, yet he preferred the lute; able to march all day without complaint, but the black curls of his hair always perfectly placed.

Baran opened his eyes when Charn drew his hand away. It hovered half an inch away, a gulf Baran yearned to close, but resisted. As Charn hummed, tension rippled between them. He held the note, and the tension grew, vibrating in the air and through his body. Baran felt it on his skin, the shiver of potential energy. With a slight rising shift in the note, the pressure dissipated and light blossomed between their palms. Two blinking orbs spiraled around their hands like fireflies. Light glinted against Baran’s armor a few feet away and sparkled across Charn’s rings. 

“Did you feel it?” Charn asked softly. 

Baran shifted onto his side and gazed at his companion. The tiefling’s eyes shone silver in the pulsing light. He cupped Charn’s jaw and one of the lights trailed through the air behind his hand.

“I did,” he said. “I’ve never felt that side of magic before.”

Charn sat up, Baran’s hand dropping away, and he sighed.

“When I was a kid, I never would have believed I could do something like that, that I would ever escape my life. It’s a small trick compared to the magic in the world, but it’s my favorite. It reminds me that the world can change. That I can change.”

Baran sat next to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. Charn glanced at him with a small smile before looking back ahead.

“You don’t need magic to change the world, you know. You change me every day. You gave me somewhere to belong.” 

Charn’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened with the grin spreading across his face. He leaned into Baran’s embrace, resting his head against his shoulder.

“If you’re not careful, word will get out that you have a vulnerable side.” He felt Baran’s chuckle rumble through his shoulders.

“That’s not my only trick, either. I can sing, too,” he whispered. “Not as well as you, of course.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes.” With a grin, Baran pulled Charn into the space between his legs and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Their fingers slid together as they held each other tightly. Baran hummed softly into his ear.

Charn closed his eyes and leaned back into Baran’s chest. “It sounds like you’re purring. Do dragons purr?” Baran’s embrace tightened briefly and a small puff of air stirred Charn’s hair as he let out a silent laugh.

“Shhh, of course we do. How does it make you feel?” He held Charn, reveling in the warmth of their arms holding each other and the staggered beating of their hearts.

“Safe. Warm.”

Baran nuzzled the top of Charn’s head, between his horns. 

“It was nice; don’t stop,” Charn mumbled.

Smiling into his partner’s hair, Baran began to hum tunelessly to the rhythm of their breathing. As they relaxed, their tight hold on each other loosened. The steady in and out of Charn’s breath deepened and slowed. Baran’s hum stepped lower and quieter. Idly, his thumb began tracing circles and spirals across Charn’s hand. He felt more connected; to himself, to Charn, to the world; than he had ever known. Contentment and peace, so fragmented and rare since the war started, glowed deep within him. His thumb found the raised band of a ring, followed its curve, found the inset gem, smooth and sharp around the edges. It was a small thing, oval. A deep green when it caught the light, with silver prongs clutching it. He breathed in lilac. His hum rose happily. A soft glow lit Charn’s cheek, warm and green like sun through leaves. He kissed Charn’s head.

“Baran?” The confused lilt tugged at his attention, but Baran paid it no mind. 

“Hmm?” He could stay like this forever, wrapped in blankets with Charn in his arms and the war miles away.

“Did you know you could do this?” 

Charn’s hand pulled away, hanging in front of them. Baran reached to pull it back to the warmth of their bodies. Then, he froze. The firefly lights had gone out. The light in the tent was glimmering on Charn’s hand, the small emerald ring not just catching the light, but the source. 

“Oh!” Charn was looking at him. The light wavered as he stared at it. “I… I didn’t know,” he stammered. It flickered out.

Charn’s long fingers stroked Baran’s cheek. Baran leaned into the touch. 

“Silly dragon,” Charn whispered fondly. “It seems we both have things to learn.” He leaned up and Baran lowered his head. They kissed in the dark, in a night they could change, apart from the world and the troubles and the night outside.


End file.
